Assassin's Creed: Division
by LauncesMechinist
Summary: It is the Civil War, the United States is divided and tiring quickly. Just like the nation, the Brotherhood of Assassins and the Templar Order have also split along the border. Step into the life of James W. Miller, a Confederate privateer turned Assassin/Union spy as he seeks to end the war and hopefully prevent a threat that can destroy the nation. Prologue only. Please review.
1. Traitor and Hero, Patriot and Rebel

Hello everyone, I'm back again with another sotry that I hope you all will enjoy. I've been a fan of the Assassin's Creed series since it started and have often wondered where the series might go. Now I have the chance to write a fanfic about it. I hope you all enjoy, and please let me know how I'm doing.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE ASSASSIN'S CREED UNIVERSE, ONLY MY OCS.

THIS FANFICTION WAS CREATED USING HISTORICAL PERSONS AND PLACES.

THOUGH I AM FROM THE STATE OF LOUISIANA (GOD BLESS LOUISIANA AND THE USA), WHICH WAS ONE OF THE CONFEDERATE STATES DURING THE AMERICAN CIVIL WAR, I, IN NO WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM APPROVE OF SLAVERY NOR AM I A RACIST INDIVIDUAL, SO DON'T SAY AS SUCH.

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T KNOW SHIP DESIGNATIONS:

USS STANDS FOR 'UNITED STATES SHIP' (UNION)

CSS STANDS FOR 'CONFEDERATE STATES SHIP' (CONFEDERACY)

Prologue: Traitor and Hero, Patriot and Rebel

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Date: 27 May, 1879

Location: Near La Martinique, twenty miles from port.

 _"Captain, for all intents and purposes, no one must ever know of your actions. You sailed for both the Union and for the Confederacy during a time we were at our weakest. When many powerful nations could and would have challenged us while we bickered and would have swept us aside. You may never know the thanks of a nation as grateful as ours, but by God as my witness you have earned my everlasting gratitude for your service."_

 _-Abraham Lincoln, 13 April, 1865._

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My name is James William Miller. And I am the Captain of a vessel that sunk some fourteen years ago, or at least that's how the Union Navy tells the story. Fact of the matter is, they had to claim my boat as sunk so that it could be used for its most dangerous mission yet. During a time of great unrest, I flew the flag of both Confederacy and Union from my ship.

Known to the North as the _Raider_ (oh, the irony) and to the South as the CSS _Alabama_ , I fought for both sides to bring an even quicker end to the war and to eliminate the ones behind it. I stormed through Union blockades, sunk Confederate smugglers and other privateers, and claimed numerous prizes as both Confederate and Union, all while working for one singular purpose.

History would say the _CSS Alabama_ was sunk by the _USS Kearsage_ , in 1864. The truth is much more terrifying and much, much more dangerous than any could imagine. As long as I stick to my mission, I am invincible; untouchable by all laws of man, save those of the sea. If I am caught by either side, I shall swing from the gallows as a spy. If I flee, I shall be pursued as a deserter and much more. I only have one mission: End the War, by any means. As the blood of my brothers and fellow Americans drowns the land, I have but one objective: Survive.

I am James W. Miller, a citizen of the state of Louisiana and an officer in both the Confederate and Union Navies; and I am an Assassin.

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I stood on the foredeck of the _Alabama_ and gazed at the foreboding port before me. Somewhere in that city, was my target. A friend, now turned enemy. A man hell-bent on destroying what so many gave their lives to build. As I gaze out at sea, I am reminded of my path. How I started, how I came to join the Order, how I somehow managed to turn the tide and end the threat of those pouring near limitless funds into the war that had ravaged my homeland for five years.

Just like the war, my journey started in 1861; the news of John Brown's hanging fresh in our minds, and the news that Louisiana had ceded from the Union fresh in the papers.

It is almost impossible for me to believe that eighteen years ago, I was shooting damn swamp rats with my best friend John Harper just outside our hometown of New Orleans when the call to arms came about. Louisiana had just ceded from the United States and had joined the ever-growing Confederacy. Unlike most young men my age who joined the Army (such as another friend of mine, Joshua Cobb), John and I joined the Confederate Navy, stationed in New Orleans, our hometown.

Early in the war from 1861 to 1862 I was assigned to a Confederate gunboat, the _CSS Selma_. I fought in several battles including the Battle for New Orleans in 1862. In early 1863, I was supposed to be assigned to another gunboat, the _CSS Chattahochee_ (no I am _not_ making that name up). Yet, thanks to a work ethic born from hard farm life, I worked my way up from deck hand to gunner's mate and from there to midshipman and was bumped up the line to serving on the 'cotton-clad' warship, _CSS Governor Moore_.

It was during this time I first came into contact with a man who would become a new friend to me, and later, my most hated enemy: Lieutenant Charles Edward Briggs, an officer in the Confederate Navy, a lieutenant aboard the _CSS Gaines_ which was a partial Ironclad vessel. A man I discovered later in life that he was a high ranking member of an order known only as the Templars.

He was the friendly sort. A very likeable man who was easy going on his men under his command. What made me like him was that, like me, hated slavery with a passion and never so much as wanted to own slaves. He came from a wealthy family somewhere in Florida that owned a few slaves but was the second son and thus would not inherit the plantation. He had managed to go to college at Richmond, Virginia and later joined the Confederacy as an officer.

Being an officer however, he could afford to buy slaves and often did, only to free and release them later on with forged papers. Before I knew what being a Templar (or an Assassin for that matter) meant, I was just as content to let him teach me about all manner of things. Though at first, I laughed about being 'taught' anything.

Being young and thinking I was smarter than every other living man alive, I naturally thought I could shoot the fleas of a hound's back at a thousand paces with a two dollar pistol, blindfolded, and with both hands tied behind my back and could have tackled any man alive in a drinking contest, knife-fight, brawl, or any other contest you could even think of.

All the times my mom and dad tanned my hide (in other words, a whipping) for doing something stupid should have prepared me for disappointment.

I accepted each challenge with the belief it was easier done than said yet time and again I was akin to a slack-jawed idiot every time I was shown how little I knew. (Which was _very_ often.) Every day was a new lesson, a new adventure. Another step towards my destiny.

When I made midshipman and had a few actions to my name and credit, Edward requested my transfer to the _Gaines_ as his assistant. Naturally he promoted me to Ensign and then began my instruction on how to act, speak, and fight like a Southern gentleman and most importantly, he taught me how to sail a vessel of war. Not some measly three-masted schooner used for hauling cotton and tobacco from Mobile to New York but a real sea-worthy ship. He even presented me with a sword and a pistol.

The pistol was a .36 caliber Savage Naval revolver often called the 'Figure-eight' because of the unique loading action, and the naval cutlass was said to have once belonged to a privateer named Shay Patrick Cormac.

I'll remember that day vividly because that next morning (while still drunk and hungover), I learned that my best friend, John Harper, had been killed when the _Chattahochee_ exploded while in Blountsville, Georgia in May of 1863. Later Edward was made Captain of a new ship and was forced to leave me behind. He had been a sort of older brother to me and now, without my friend, without my brother, I felt I was truly alone.

It was later that month in fact that I was asked by a close friend of Edward to help him take possession of a new Confederate ship. It was no secret that the Confederacy had been paying European shipwrights to make ships for us. This vessel in particular had just been completed in Liverpool and was being armed in Nassau. All we needed to do was go down, flash our papers and sail her back.

However, there was more to the war than I was aware of at the time. Just as the war had split the nation in half, so too had it split the Assassin and Templar orders of the nation. It was while in Nassau that I first became aware of the Assassins.

On the way to Nassau, the _Gaines_ was attacked by a vessel flying the Union Navy banner. Naturally we returned fire but we took some hits and I was sent over the side in one of the blasts. God much love those who seem to be in hopeless situations because just as I went under to consign myself to the deep, I felt someone grab my soaked uniform and pull me to the surface.

I found myself to be a 'guest' aboard the Union privateer, _USS Kearsage,_ (again with the irony) and as it just so happened, she was a vessel that not only sailed for the Union but also for the Assassins (the Yankee branch of the Order).

Being a loyal southerner, I at first had nothing to do with them. The crew of the ship were a mixed lot to be sure. Some whites, mainly officers and high ranking deck hands, some blacks, even some indians and a chinaman or two. Most common were the Irishmen (God Bless the Irish).

Of particular note was a foul-mouthed deck watchman who kept the watch on me during the day and always started me off right in the morning with a bucket cold sea water (which I believe was used for swabbing the decks, or worse, flushing the bilge) over my head. I can safely say that from the smell that clung to my hair, it was bilge water.

There was a man with them though, he looked to be part Native-American and white and spoke with a clear albeit pure 'Yankee' accent. Little did I know at the time that I had been introduced to James Connor Kenway, the great-grandson of the Mentor Connor Kenway of the Colonial Brotherhood, and the great-great-great grandson of Edward James Kenway, a pirate who terrorized these same waters at the turn of the last century and fought both Spanish and British Templars.

I don't know what it was but something about James seemed approachable. While the rest of the Union crew treated me with disdain, he was open, always speaking as if trying to understand me. Eventually I told him my name, my rank, and the reasons I joined the Confederate Navy in the first place. When asked if I was a slave owner, I laughed and said something that, had I known the effect it would have had...

I would have kept my damn mouth shut.

After spitting out some blood (and a broken tooth) compliments of the freedman who was on deck who took 'offense' at my language, I amended my previous remark and assured them I despised slavery. I grew up on a farm, the son of an English mother whose own father had disowned her for running off to the 'colonies' with my father, a German dockworker turned sailor turned Louisiana farmer. We were poor as dirt, had only a flea-bitten nag to plow the fields, and could barely raise enough crops to feed ourselves much less an army of slaves.

My Mother, being a properly educated woman, taught me my letters and numbers while my Father taught me German as well as the way of the sea. I also picked up French easily enough while I worked in New Orleans at the harbor offloading and loading goods from far off places _. (To this day I can still smell those endless crates of cheese imported from France.)_

When I mentioned my time as the subordinate of Edward Briggs, James took an exceptional interest in _that_ subject as did the rest of the crew. I told them that he was not an evil man as I knew some Yankees were wont to say about _any_ Southerner. They left me alone for a few days and just as the port of Nassau was coming into view from my station (by which I meant being chained to the foremast), James approached me wearing a Union blue coat which looked more like a robe than anything. Hood down, hair tied back, sword, boarding axe, and pistols at the ready. An Assassin.

Seeing him like that, I will freely admit I felt like soiling myself. He had transformed from a man who was merely curious as to my existance and my purpose to a man who would kill anyone who crossed him in cold blood with little to no hesitation. He looked down at me and nodded at which point I felt the ropes binding my hands come away and I was helped to my feet. James pulled one of the two revolvers from his belt and handed it to me. I'll never forget his words as long as I live.

 _"If you wish to still believe that this war only encompasses North and South, then go ahead and pull the trigger. I am an officer of the Union Navy and you an officer of the Confederate Navy. You may kill me but my crew here will avenge me ten-fold and still see my buisness here concluded. If, however, you want to see the world in a new light. If you want to understand that this war is just as much about ideaologies and faiths as it is about freedom and liberty, then follow us and we will show you the true enemy that we_ _ **all**_ _face, North and South, black and white. Know this though, once you choose this course of action, you can never go back to the way things were."_

He saw my grip on the revolver relax and he took that as a sign and nodded. Then he, and six others wearing the same blue coat/robes leapt from the bow and began swimming for the shore. I holstered the revolver and stared at the swimming men and felt the eyes of the remaining crew upon me.

What made me move, I'll never know. Perhaps my own curiousity. Perhaps I was still mourning the death of my friend and wanting to see if he had died in vain or not. Perhaps it was the hand of God giving me a gentle nudge forward to set me back on the straight and narrow. Perhaps I just felt there was something bigger awaiting me than simply being an officer in the Confederate Navy. I'll never know.

The moment I leapt from the boat and followed James into Nassau, I knew I had become a traitor.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Perhaps it is best I start back in the beginning. Back on the _Gaines_ , that moment I jumped and started swimming into Nassau. The flag of England in the distance, overshadowing the Confederate Naval Ensign that flew from the _Gaines_ as well as the nearby ship they were retrieving, the _CSS Florida._

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Alright everyone, he's the prologue to the Assassin's Creed story I've been thinking about for a time. Now then, for those of you who, like me, enjoy the historical ascpects of the game, he's a little 'Codex' for you.

(I'll try to place them at the end of every chapter.)

CODEX:

 **Louisiana Sucedes:**

 _On January 26, 1861, in an incredible 113 to 17 vote, the state of Louisiana adopted the 'Ordnance of Sucession' and thus declared their ties to the United States of America cut. Celebrations throughout the state were common and the Governor of the state asked all citizens and buisness owners to put lights in their windows as a show of support. The Port of New Orleans was especially vocal about the sucession and even fired harbor and fortification cannons in celebration._

 _Sucession was not without its opponents however. Most outspoken was_ _Judge James G. Taliaferro of Catahoula Parish who stated that sucession would bring about war, ruin, and decline._

 _Given the sentiments at the time, it is not surprising that his opinion was not asked for when the state suceeded._

 **Battle for New Orleans:**

 _On the morning of April 25th, 1862, the city of New Orleans Louisiana awoke to the sound of cannonfire coming from the port. To the horror of the citizens, they discovered that the Union Navy Fleet commanded by Admiral Farragut had begun to attack the harbor and the nearby position of Fort St. Philip._

 _New Orleans, being one of the largest ports in the Confederacy as well as historically being the 'Las Vegas' of the 1800s made it desirable as a blockade port and as a position for the many Louisiana offenses that the Union planned. Furthermore, many in the city had Union sympathies and many buisnesses had pro-Union behaviors. After the city fell, it was declared a Union State by the Federal Government and was granted a voice in Congress. For the rest of the war Louisiana had two governors, one appointed by the people of the Confederacy and another elected by the Union._

 _During the battle, the Confederate ironclads '_ _ **CSS Louisiana**_ _' and her sister ship '_ _ **CSS Mississippi**_ _' ,which were under construction at the harbor, were burned and cut from their mooring to avoid capture._

 _ **CSS Louisiana**_ _was actually armed when the attack took place but had no engines. She was installed as a secondary battery for Fort St. Philip and was burned when the fort fell. The_ _ **CSS Mississippi**_ _on the other hand was largely incomplete and was burned in the port._

 _It is speculated that, had these two collossal ironclads been completed, armed, and fully operational at the time of the attack, the outcome might have been different._

 **Naval Combat in the Civil War:**

 _By the time of the Civil War, the steam engine had become a necessary addition to most ship designs. Though the ships such as the mighty man'o war, frigates, schooners, gunboats, brigs and barques were still seen, they had far fewer guns than previously in history and were fitted with one of three modes of movement. Most vessels relied on sail power with a single simple steam engine while some larger vessels used paddlewheels and a few notable examples used all three._

 _Sail power was the first and most used mode of movement. Though the speed was slow and the wind could leave you in a moment's notice, there was no risk of an explosion setting the ship ablaze underneath you as was so common (and widely feared) of early steam engines at the time._

 _The second was paddlewheels which were less common than sails but more common than screws or propellors. You know what I mean, giant wheels with long beams that rotated through the water being powered by one or two massive pistons and steam engines? Like the riverboats on the old Mississippi River? Anyway, there were three types of paddlewheelers: a single rear paddlewheel, a side wheeler that held two thinner paddlewheels and were usually covered by a 'fender' and were powered by a central shaft and rotated by a series of piston rods. The third was a bit of a rarity, a central wheeler; a ship that had a hole somewhere inside the center of the ship and the covered paddlewheel centered amidships._

 _The third was true steam power, the forerunner to the modern day ship design. Steam engines would rotate one of two central shafts that was connected to a propellor (oftentimes called screws because of the way they pushed the ship through the water). This mode of transpirt became a sort of 'secret weapon' for many ships because you could not see the propellor unless you were right next to the ship and looked down. If a vessel was being pursued or wished to make better time, the sails would sometimes be furled to prevent embers, the boilers lit, and the ship was propelled through the water._

 _Ironically, steam powered vessels were among the fastest ships in the world some attaining speeds of 13, 14, even 15 Knots. Yet they were well known for the risks that speed granted. Many was a time a careless engineer let the boiler run out of water or an officer insist safety checks be 'delayed' for the sake of a timely arrival in port and a big bonus for early delivery and the result was a boiler explosion that could and often did sink the ship or leave it with incredible (and expensive) damages to repair._

 _(For those of you saying 'Oh they're ships, why not boil sea water?' Sea water is salt water, most engines back then were made of iron; boiling sea water produces a highly corrosive steam that could and did eat through and rust the internal workings of the engine, resulting in more expensive repairs.)_

 **Confederate Ships:**

 **CSS Selma (Gunboat):**

 _One of the longest serving gunboats in the Confederate Navy, the_ Selma _was originally built as a mail boat in Mobile, Alabama. After the war started, she was cut down, armored, armed and redeployed as a gunboat. She is most well known for engaging the Union ships '_ _ **USS Massachusetts**_ _' and '_ _ **USS Montgomery**_ _' during the Battle for Mobile. She was sank and refloated but in the end was surrendered when Mobile fell and was pressed into Union service until being sold in 1865._

 **CSS Chattahochee (Gunboat):**

 _A three masted schooner-class vessel built in 1863, she was also equipped with two steam engines that propelled this graceful ship through the waves at 12 Knots. Three months after being launched however, she sank in Blountsville, Florida after a boiler explosion. She was refloated and towed to Columbus, Georgia for repairs but was burned to prevent capture in the Apalachicola River in Florida._

 **CSS Governor Moore (Cotton-clad):**

 _Another schooner-class side-wheeler vessel that was siezed for the Confederacy in New Orleans. She was equiped with two heavy guns and a reinforced ram on her bow. She fought in the defence of New Orleans where she rammed the Union vessel, '_ _ **USS Varuma**_ _' and forced her aground. As she headed back into the battle, she came under fire from another Union ship, '_ _ **USS Oneida**_ _', and was forced to beach herself near the crippled Varuma._

 _To be presise, a 'cotton-clad' is a vessel that uses pine timbers and bales of cotton to protect the machinery and boilers in the ship's hull. Think of them as the answer to the Union's tin-clad or rubber-clad vessels of similar size and abilities._

 **CSS Gaines (Partial Iron-clad):**

 _This vessel was originally an all wood schooner-class but was refitted with 2 inch armor plates partially covering her hull (hence the type 'partial iron-clad'). The Gaines, along with the gunboats '_ _ **CSS Selma**_ _', '_ _ **CSS Morgan**_ _', and the full iron-clad '_ _ **CSS Tennessee**_ _', engaged Farragut's fleet in Mobile on August 5, 1864. After the Tennessee surrendered and the Selma sank, the Captain of the Gaines fired the ship to prevent its capture._

 **CSS Alabama (Confederate Raider):**

 _Built in the Azores, this vessel struck terror into Union shipping as one of the most successful privateers of the war sinking or capturing some 65 vessels from the West Indies to Cherbourg, France where she was engaged and sunk by the Union ship '_ _ **USS Kearsage**_ _'._

 _Using both sail and steam power and a single propellor (screw), the Alabama could reach a speed of 13 Knots and made history by embarking on a 22 month long terror campaign against Union shipping that ended with her sinking June 19, 1864._

 _Other notable vessels include '_ _ **CSS Florida**_ _' with 58 vessels sunk or captured and the '_ _ **CSS Shenandoah**_ ' _with 38 vessels._

 **Union Ships:**

 **USS Kearsage (Union Sloop of War):**

 _A vessel a history teacher of mine once called 'the Bismarck of the Union Navy'. This white oak reinforced sloop was launched in 1861 and from the start was a dedicated privateer hunter. Though somewhat slower than her quarry at 11 Knots, she nevertheless proved herself time and again. Her most notable victory was in June 19, 1864 off the coast of Cherbourg, France where she engaged the Confederate Raider '_ _ **CSS Alabama**_ _' and sunk her._

 _Alas this vessel is also a tragic one as in 1894, she was wrecked on a Central American reef and lost. A tragic end to a noble vessel._

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Okay everyone, that's the Codex. So...like it? Like the idea of the story? Please PM me, review, fav, or follow the story. To know people are actually reading my stories and enjoying them are what makes me want to write more.

Redid the dates so that I can fit in the plot of the next few chapters.

Until next time!


	2. A Shot Through The Storm

Alright everyone, now that the prologue is out there, I might as well get to work on the next chapter until this accursed writer's block passes. I swear, it is so irritating, I come up with a wonderful idea and then it completely grinds to a halt in my mind. It's like a half-cooked beef roast, it smells so good yet you know it isn't done yet...

Great, now I'm hungry.

Let's get this chapter over with so that I can get a roast in the oven. Maybe some carrots, potatoes, a little bit of garlic...

By the way, slight adjustment to the time (month mainly) so please no flames about the time of year.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE ASSASSIN'S CREED UNIVERSE, ONLY MY OCS.

THIS FANFICTION WAS CREATED USING HISTORICAL PERSONS AND PLACES.

Chapter 1: A Shot Through the Storm

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Date: 6 June, 1863.

Location: Nassau, British controlled Carribean Sea.

 _"The Confederacy must never attain a balance with the Union Navy. We must blockade their ports, intercept their blockade runners, and sink, or capture their privateers. If they manage to attain a balance, this war will go in a direction no one desires." -James Connor Kenway, 1862._

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I managed to drag myself ashore and found myself herded by one of the Yankees in blue towards a small ramshackle hut on the beach. Nearby was a fisherman with four empty bottles of rum and one half-drank bottle lying next to him, snoozing away. Judging by the empty net it hadn't been a good day for him. Anyway, I crept up to James who pointed in the direction of the docks. In the distance was a ship that was in the process of changing her colors, the British Naval Ensign being lowered ceremoniously and the Confederate Naval Jack being raised in its place.

The ship was easily over 190 feet and looked to be a hybrid, using both sail and, by the looks of the two smokestacks amidships, steam power. I let out muffled whistle of appreciation and James nodded.

"Aye, that's the _Oreto_ , or as you Rebs call her, _Florida_. She was built in Liverpool just a few months ago and now she's being armed. A man who sailed with you, John Maffitt is to be her Captain. Our mission is to destroy the ship if possible but we have another target. A 'salesman' of a sort." I looked at him as if he were crazy.

"A salesman of what, exactly? Slaves? Cargo? Ships? Weapons?"

"All of the above and more my Southern friend. Claiborne Reede is a former officer in the Royal Navy and has been on our British branch's list for a _long_ time. He sails to Africa for slaves, sells them abroad, then comes back here and sells the evidence of his crimes. He also has a habit of claiming Royal Naval vessels 'lost at sea' when he is in fact selling them to England's enemies and in some cases, the Confederacy. If he were tied in a court they'd have to let him go because of no evidence though if all the evidence came together he'd surely hang. We, I mean, my Order, simply speed up the process a bit." I looked at him and his fellows aghast as my mind understood what he'd just admitted.

"T-That's murder!" James went wide-eyed and clapped a hand over my mouth as the others, except one, chuckled while he frowned.

"Shhhh! Keep it down. Yes, in the eyes of the common folk we _are_ murderers. However, we fight an unseen war against a foe that, if you knew about it, would likely drive you mad. We work in the darkness to serve the light. We shield the weak and bring down the oppressors. We are Assassins and our goal is killing these men called 'Templars'." He removed his hand and I looked him square in the eyes, curious about what he'd said.

"Templars? As in the Knights Templar from the Crusades?" James nodded and then returned his gaze to the ship.

"Yes, the very same. Now then, William, you have one last chance to turn away from this. I will see you returned to the Confederacy if you so choose or you may serve in the Union Navy as a defector. If you follow us any further, you will be accepting a new role in life. Are you comfortable with that?" I sighed, realizing I was likely already a traitor or reported dead so I didn't have much choice. I looked back at him and nodded.

"My Father always said to never do things half-assed. I've come this far, and after what you've told me of the war while on the ship, I'm beginning to think it's in the best interest of all states, not just the North or the South that we end this war as quickly as possible." James smiled a bit then nodded and produced a saber to replace the one that had been lost on the _Gaines_.

"Here, use this if you need to fight, it'll make less noise than that revolver I gave you. and plus, the revolver only has five rounds while the sword needs no bullets."

I nodded drew the sword, giving it a few test swings to get the weight of the blade before feeling satisfied. One of my 'friends' in blue also motioned to a knife that was near the fisherman.

"You may need a knife as well. That sword won't do much good if you're in an alley."

I nodded, somewhat frowning upon stealing what was obviously a man's gutting knife but then I saw something and had an idea.

Nearby was a British soldier relieving himself in a haystack not too far away. Using my experience tracking deer and other game through the bayous of Louisiana, I got as close to the soldier as I dared and in a flash I grabbed him, put my hand over his mouth and gave his neck a sharp twist.

The _'crack'_ of his neck snapping was almost deafening in the quiet morning. I grabbed the bag of primers and bullets from him as well as grabbed the bayonet that was sheathed on his side. I tossed the body into the haystack and returned to James and the others who looked as if I were crazy. I gave a shrug and inspected my new knife, which was really more of a shortsword or a dagger to be honest, but it did feel right. I looked at my bag of bullets and swore silently.

I should have remembered that British rounds and American guns don't mix.

The revolver I had was a .41 caliber and the bullets the soldier had were .577 caliber, likely for his rifle which lay against the wall nearby. James looked to the rifle, an Enfield 1856 2-band rifle, then to me.

"You a good shot?" I nodded but refrained from asking him why he was asking such a stupid question.

"Grab that rifle, it has a sling but keep low. We _may_ just need a long shot before the day is done. Normally I wouldn't even consider a rifle but times have changed. We need to be more flexible than we have been. It's not uncommon to see people carrying weapons around these days but it isn't as common as it was. A rebel carrying a British musket will likely draw some attention. We have a safehouse in the city that will have a change of clothes for us so that we don't look out of place. The problem is they were expecting only the seven of us. Likely, you'll have to buy your clothes elsewhere and though England is 'helping' the Confederacy, Southern money isn't worth much down here.

I nodded and then saw him grasp something in his hand and produced a small leather bag which held a book. He opened it revealing a series of bank notes for various amounts. He ripped one out and I gasped at the amount: Three-thousand British Pounds.

"That should be more than enough to get you some clothes to help you blend in. Since you're so well armed, try to look like a mercenary. There are plenty of them on the island looking to sign on with the Rebels for a privateering job. Meet us at a small shack near the town hall when you're done. You'll recognize it by the door knocker shaped like a black 'A'. When you knock, tell the doorman that 'Not all is as it Seems' and he will let you in."

I nodded to him, said goodbye for now and walked to the nearest clothing shop which, interestingly enough, was near a tavern that was still lively even in the wee hours of the morning as it was.

Inside was a short man wearing a white shirt, brown vest, brown pants, and black shoes. As I walked to the counter, I could hear him 'tsk tsk'ing silently.

"My dear fellow if you wish to join the Confederacy so badly that you'll wear that...rag, you might as well join those ruffians on the docks. However, you seem to be a man of much better appraisals judging by your weapons...mercenary? Privateer? Volunteer for the Empire?" I coughed and looked aloof at the clothes nearby.

"Mercenary, I'm hoping for a few contracts out here. I'm also trying to get into bounty hunting if possible."

"Ah the rough and tumble lifestyle of an adventurer. So rare and few these days. People often say that there is nothing left to be explored but they so soon forget that the world is ever changing, ever evolving. Why it was only a few short years ago that your 'United States' was a colony for the Empire. Now here you are having your own little war just like we did back in the Dark Ages. So then, something that sets you apart but doesn't stick out like a wolf in a sheep herd...Perhaps this shall do?"

The man pointed to a set of clothes that consisted of a white shirt, black breeches, a brown coat, a wide-brimmed hat similar to what the cavalry wear, and lastly a dark rain cape to cover the back. I checked the price of it and nodded, handing the man the note. I asked about the rain cape and he shrugged as he removed the clothes, took my measurements, and adjusted them in a very quick manner.

"The weather out here is...unpredictable at best. One day it can be as calm as this and just as beautiful and the next day could be a storm that can capsize man o'wars and level houses. A rain cape is a common addition to most clothes down here, especially in this season when storms are more common."

When the fitting was done, he smiled and handed me the change and then recommended an weapon merchant near the docks who dealt in much better quality arms than what I had at present.

I thanked him for the recommendation and set out on the street to the house that I was to meet James at. On the way I came across a fellow who was getting a little too roudy with a woman who simply wanted to be left alone. When he struck her, I came forward and laid him out flat on the ground, helped the woman up and turned around to come face to fist with some of the drunkard's friends.

Thankfully I'd been in some fist fights before back in New Orleans and knew how to take a punch (but by God I forgot how much it hurt) and knew how to give it right back. By the time someone was yelling for the guards, the drunk and his friends were moaning on the ground and I had ducked into a nearby alley to escape notice and made my way to the aforementioned street and house.

Once I arrived, I used the knocker on the door and saw a small door open up and a pair of blue eyes staring back at me. Then came a man's voice from the other side.

"What's one thing that most people can agree on?"

"Nothing is as it seems." There was a grunt and then the door opened and the man beckoned me in.

Once I was inside, I was directed to a bookshelf that the doorman, a seven foot tall behemoth of a man, grasped a thick book and pulled it back. There was a click and the bookcase swung open to reveal a passageway down and voces further along.

I decended the staircase with a slight apprehension. I didn't know if they were going to just kill me or if they sincerely wanted me to learn the 'truth' about the war. As I got closer, the voices became more clear and I heard them talking.

About me.

 _"You do not know if this Rebel will truly help us James. Think of the bastard who nearly killed your father, the Mentor! He was a member of our Southern Brotherhood and he was as bad as a Templar! You cannot trust a slave-trading, fork tongued Southerner. Even if he has information about Him."_

 _"You have not met him Tom. He is a Rebel, yes, but he is a_ _ **good**_ _man. I can sense it."_

I finally plucked up courage and walked through the open door, gaining everyone's undivided attention which caused me to think of something my grandmother had once said.

"I felt my ears burning when I came in. Was anyone talking about me? Nothing bad I hope." Instantly one of the men frowned and spoke in an English accent and pointed at me.

"See? Eavesdropping no doubt! How can we be sure he isn't a Templar spy or another traitor sent to find our safehouses?" I sighed and rested on one of the walls and looked at the man with a stern expression.

"Because if I wanted to betray you, I could have gone right to the docks and rejoined the crew of the _Gaines_ and told them of that Yankee ship just off the shore and about this safehouse. Instead, I want simply to end the war before any more lives are lost. I already lost my two best friends in this war, one at Blountsville and another at Chancellorsville. I cannot stop while my folks are in danger, even if they never forgive me or want to see me again, I'll not let this war take them as well." The man stared at me open mouthed and James, who sat across from him, smiled and stood up.

"We all fight in this war for our own reasons. Just as many come to us for their own reasons and causes. Our Brotherhood has existed since the Crusades. We have waned, we have become strong, we have been nearly wiped out, we have come back stronger. My ancestor, Edward Kenway, nearly caused the destruction of the Brotherhood in these lands yet at the pivotal moment, he embraced what the Assassins are and became one of them."

He walked toward me and placed a hand on my shoulder and nodded.

"I believe that you truly wish to end the war. To end the war we must stop both the Templars and our own traitors. We must also ensure that Europe does not intervene while the nation is weak. We are the country's unseen shield. _We_ are the protectors of liberty and freedom when all others cannot rise to its call. The Templars believe that linking America with Europe again will restore their power and influence while our southern brothers and sisters are ingrained into the funds recieved from plantation owners who supported us in the past but are now blinded by the Confederate doctrine." At that moment, another Assassin spoke and nodded.

"Some people claim they seek freedom to do things their own way without realizing that they are weakening not only the country but also themselves. Others seek to protect slavery while others seek to go their own way. As things stand, we have little to fear from the Pacific as China has its own problems right now, as does Russia, and Japan still sticks to its isolation policy. The biggest problem will be the major powers of Europe: England itself, France, Spain, Italy to name a few." The other man, Tom, nodded, his face grim.

"Templars from all corners of the world will have their eyes on America to see what will happen. They've already sent a few of their own over here as mercenaries and these men have recruited promising people from both North and South." I nodded then remembered about James' target and ventured there.

"So, how does this fellow, Reede, fit into it all?" Tom looked horrified that I knew the target but James nodded understandingly.

"Reede is as much an arms dealer as he is the go between for the European Templars and the American Templars. The Confederacy needs something, _anything_ , they pass a request to him, he passes it along to his masters and they get what is needed and give it to Reede who gives it to the Confederacy. No one minds if he makes a few Pounds or dollars off of the sales, it just keeps him hidden as just another war profiteer. A merchant of death so to speak."

"So take him out and the Templars in the Confederacy will have to seek their supplies from elsewhere."

"Precisely. Now then, while you were out, we learned that Reede is booking passage on the _Florida_ for travel to Mobile and then to Liverpool before coming back here. He _cannot_ be aboard that ship. I don't care how it's done, he is a thorn and we must remove him from our side before infection sets in." I thought for a moment then had an idea.

"Where is he now?" James shrugged then thought of something.

"Probably at the tavern saying his farewells to the 'ladies' that hang around the place. He's quite popular with them for some reason. Why, what did you have in mind? Poison? Sorry but that approach requires us to slip it into his drink and he's constantly protected by a squad of low-ranking Templar lobsterbacks. A shot will likely expose us to danger even if we can fight our way back."

At that moment, another Assassin came down, soaked to the bone.

"You guys ain't going to believe this but a storm came out of nowhere. The _Florida_ is making ready to sail now."

"Damn! We have to hurry." I caught James' sleeve and looked into his eyes.

"Listen, I have an idea, I've hunted in a storm before. Just get me to a high place where I can see Reede if he boards the ship. When thunder claps, I'll shoot, he'll drop dead and with a little luck nobody will know where the shot came from." James looked at me then a smile stretched across his face and he clapped me on the back and turned to Tom and the other British Assassins here and laughed.

"See? He's already proving himself!" Tom huffed and eyed the rifle on my back with apprehension.

"I hope you are as good a shot as you are a talker Rebel, because you're only going to have one shot at this. You miss, the _Kearsage_ will have to expose herself to Nassau's fortifications to sink the _Florida_ as well as the _Gaines_." I turned to the man, eyes as stern as I could make them and looked him straight in the eyes.

"I never miss."

"Big words, Rebel. I want to see you back them up. If you can get to the top of the Fort overlooking the port, you can see damn near everything in the city. Trick is, you'll have to clear the tower first of the sharpshooters. No one has scaled that fortress since Edward Kenway over a hundred years ago...well, a few have tried and their bones litter the cliff where they fell or where the soldiers shot them." James grimaced then smirked and turned to Tom.

"He won't fail Tom, because I'm going up there with him."

The second he said that, nearly every Assassin, man and woman, American and British, went dead white and began blathering excuses and reasons why he shouldn't go. James held up his hand and got the silence he wanted.

"As of this moment, William here is an initiate into our Brotherhood. If he makes the kill, he is an Assassin and I shall personally train him in our methods and ways." James turned to me and nodded.

"I'll go ahead to the fort. Time is of the essence, but don't rush your preparations." With that, James left the building and walked outside. I did a quick check of my weapons and, deciding I didn't need anything else, went out after him.

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The sky was already beginning to darken as I stepped outside and the wind was picking up. The flag above the fortress was snapping and straining violently in the wind. In the distance, I could see sheets of rainfall coming down and closing on Nassau. The streets were oddly vacant as I went down the street towards the fort and I noticed James standing by a tower of the fort that had somewhat fallen into disrepair. He saw me approaching and nodded.

"Alright William, I trust you know the old sailor's saying that every finger's a fish hook? This may be an assignment but I also want to test your skills. Your going to need to climb up the fort wall here and get to the top. I'll be taking a different path up and should reach the top before you and clear out the guards. Once you get up there, ready your rifle and sight down to the docks. Remember, Reede cannot get on the _Florida_. If at all possible, I'd prefer it if he didn't make it to the docks at all. From this point you can shoot past his guards and take him out with a single well aimed round. Okay, start climbing."

I watched James begin his climb as I watched on in amazement. He moved deliberately to stay out of sight, sticking to the dark corners of the tower, moving without so much as a sound. I rubbed my hands together as I also started my climb. To be honest, it went about as well as I expected. When it came to climbing sails, trees, masts, and whatnot, I was a natural. When it came to buildings such as the fortress...

I was as graceful as a greased pig.

Twice I missed a handhold forcing me to find another handhold, and once I nearly fell when a section of rock I was reaching for broke free and fell as soon as my hands grabbed it. Halfway up, the wind blew my hat off and a little further up, the half-assed knot around my neck came loose and the rain cape fluttered to the ground. Well, I finally made it to the top and there was James looking at me with an odd look. As I started for the wall he asked the question I had seen on his face.

"Where the Hell were you?" I sighed and readied my rifle and looked back at him.

"Just hanging around."

He sighed and then moved up alongside me and gazed out at the docks then looked at the weather.

"Hang on your own time William. We're on the Brotherhood's clock now." I chuckled and readied the rifle. Then, the rain hit and I swore at the volume of it. I'm pretty sure I said something about 'drowning a fish in this rain' but for the life of me I couldn't hear myself think, much less what was said. A few seconds into the rain I was already soaked and looked to James who seemed unbothered by it.

(Lucky bastard still had a rain cape.)

Still, he frowned and noticed that I would only just be able to see anyone on the docks then nodded.

"Alright, William. What do we do in a situation like this?" I suddenly felt very cold and felt the need to say something, anything, to take my mind off the feeling.

"Pray that the rain slacks up?" James chuckled and then looked over the wall.

"Not likely but sure go ahead. What I mean is, can you make the shot?"

Truth be told, I probably could have made the shot even in the dark. The sun was still up and casting everything in a grey light but I had always been able to sense things. It's a sixth sense I developed while at the docks of New Orleans. You have to learn quickly to obey your gut instincts when you feel something is wrong or that something is coming.

That sense saved my ass dozens of times whenever cargo broke free of thugs lined the corners waiting in ambush. Once I was actually hailed as a hero for saving a drunkard who had fallen onto the tracks just as a train shunting freight cars came into the station. I had leapt down, grabbed him by the belt and unceremoniously tossed him back up onto the platform and leapt back up just before the train barreled through.

The sense served me well and now I was employing it again, not to detect harm but to find someone. I waited for a moment and then saw it. A faint...I guess you could call it an 'aura' about the man. A sense of greed, arrogance, malice...cruelty. He was in the company of seven redcoats and was briskly walking to the docks under cover of an parasol while his guards stood next to him soaking wet. I had already checked to ensure the rifle was loaded. Pulled a primer from my pouch and fitted it snugly to the nipple and pulled the hammer back to full cocked position.

Experience as a hunter told me to lead the target, to aim where he was going to be and not where he was. Also, if I was to succeed, I would need to wait for a clap of thunder before shooting, otherwise the sound of the rifle would drown out the sound of the rain and the alarm would be raised.

I was able to lead him without problems but the trick was waiting for the damned thunder. It came in a most...'surprising' fashion.

A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky and struck somewhere in the swamp outside the city, the thunder nearly rattled my teeth out of my skull and I watched as the man turned to see what had happened. As he turned about to face the fort, I lined the sights up with his face and squeezed the trigger just as another bolt of lightning struck somewhere in the city.

The round fired just as a clap of thunder pierced the sky and struck the man right between the eyes and threw him backwards where he lay, arms sprawled out, and clothes now soaking in the rain. The inside of his parasol was stained with blood and other things and a second later was flying away without its owner. I sighed and turned away as the guards were leaping about like their pants were on fire trying to figure out where the shot had come from. I looked to James who nodded.

"First time killing a man?" I shook my head.

I had killed before. In self-defense on the docks, self-defense at bar brawls, in war I had killed and sometimes still saw the men I had slain. Still though, this felt different. Not war, not self-defense, but a feeling like I was removing a threat from the world. James had told me of the man's crimes; I was the man's judge, jury...

...and executioner.

A loud bell caught my attention and I risked a peep over the wall to see the _Florida_ and the _Gaines_ slipping out of port in the confusion. Both vessels flew the Confederate flag high and the _Florida_ , rather than risk raising sail in the wind, the smokestacks were billowing smoke and she was underway using her engines. I turned to James who also watched the commotion.

"Think the _Kearsage_ can catch them?" James nodded but said nothing as we both got up and went to the edge of the wall, I looked down and saw a rather large pile of hay there and felt James' hand on my shoulder. I looked at him and he chuckled.

"An Assassin must never fear, must never _show_ fear. To truly become one of us, you must perform what is known as a Leap of Faith. In times of trouble, it has been the most expediant way of outrunning trouble for most men fear such drops; not us. For you to be accepted, you must do this task. It is the danger of the Leap that makes you one of us. If your faith flags and wanes at the wrong moment...well...the street sweepers will be cleaning you up in the morning. Are you ready?" I looked at him, my eyes wide and shook my head.

"Too bad." I felt him hit my back hard enough to send me forward. I too close to the edge to stop my movement and I went over the edge. It took all my restraint not to yell as I fell, yet instinct took over and I felt myself flip in midair and the next thing I felt was hay as I fell into the haystack.

As I climbed out of the hay, I heard James decend right behind me and come out a second later grinning like a dog in a butcher shop. At least until I slugged him. He looked at me and I smirked and helped him up and he shook his head, grinning.

"I deserved that."

"Damn right you did. Now then, where to?"

"Back to the safehouse. I believe there's someone there that owes you an apology. Just, one thing...don't punch him, he's not as good natured as I am." We started walking down the street and I chuckled thinking back on things.

"No promises James."

"Mentor."

"What?" James stopped and turned to me, his face stern yet understanding.

"Call me 'Mentor'. I have shown you the Brotherhood, you have made your first kill and you have performed a...satisfactory Leap of Faith. You are now an Assassin, I am your teacher, your Mentor. Address me as such when before our brothers and sisters. In private, or in public, James." I immediately glanced around and saw that we were the only people in the steet in the pounding rain and chuckled.

"Alright then James." James let out an exasperated sigh and we walked to the safehouse.

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Thinking back on how much grief he gave me, I can safely say that James was a better friend than any other friend I'd ever had. I had thought of Edward as an older brother but the fact is he was a comrade simply because we wore the same uniform and probably had hopes of recruiting me for the Templars. James was the real older brother.

We had our fights (mainly me not addressing him properly or that instance with Katrina) but deep down we were friends as close as brothers.

Our mission in Nassau was done, even though the _Florida_ and the _Gaines_ escaped. My training continued on the way back to America and I was presented to the Brotherhood in the Union Territory and presented a Union blue uniform.

(I'll never forget how much that damn thing itched.)

Still, despite what I had done, despite that I was a sailor, despite everything that I was prepared for, I would soon find myself the last place I wanted to be.

Without a ship or crew, there was only one place for me to be at the moment.

I was on dry land.

I was given a list of targets to eliminate, and by late June I was marching with some of my brothers towards a small town in the state of Pennsylvania.

A town called Gettysburg.

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Wow, chapter 1 is done. And so are my noodles. Blasted roaster broke so I have to settle for ramen. Oh well, maybe next time.

CODEX:

 **Notable Battles and Operations:**

 **Battle of Chancellorsville:**

 _In May of 1863, a Union force commanded by General Joseph Hooker, the man appointed by President Lincoln to replace General Ambrose Burnside, crossed the Rappahannock River and saught to outflank General Robert E. Lee's Virginia Army and march on Richmond, Virginia, the capital of the Confederacy._

 _To reach Richmond, Hooker's army had to cross the river then cross an expanse of forest known as 'The Wilderness' however, the forces became bogged down in the crossroads of Chancellorsville, Virginia and is overpowered by Lee's forces and forced into a dead end situation with the river they had_ _ **just**_ _crossed behind them and the Rebel Army in front of them._

 _During the battle, an artillery shell exploded near General Hooker, giving him a mild concussion and also, apparently, breaking his nerve as moments later he orders the retreat._

 _The Battle of Chancellorsville was one engagement along a ten mile front stretching the river from the landing point to the ruined town of Fredricksburg. It is here that units of the Union Army, in particular the 20th Massachusetts, charge again at the Rebel lines but are brought to a standstill by artillery bombardment._

 _Suffering over 15,000 men killed, wounded, missing or captured, the Battle of Chancellorsville becomes on of the costliest defeats for the Union in the war and is the bloodiest battle fought up until the Battle of Gettysburg_

 _Despite it being a victory for the South, the battle is a personal loss for Lee as the legendary General 'Stonewall' Jackson is injured by friendly fire and dies days after the battle. A careless shot has claimed the life of one of his best commanders._

 **Operation Anaconda:**

 _Started early in the war, this plan was devised by President Abraham Lincoln to, in his own words, 'squeeze the life from the Confederacy and allow the Union to split it in half'. The United States Navy blockaded every Southern Port from Virginia to Texas using some 5,000 ships and also sent forces inland down the Mississippi River using riverboats to break the Confederacy in half. Though the plan truly started in 1862, it would not be until 1864 with the fall of Vicksburg, Mississippi that the Confederacy would be divided._

 **Confederate Ships:**

 **CSS Florida** _(SS Oreto)_ **(Confederate Raider):**

 _The raider, CSS Florida, was built in Liverpool by the British after being contracted by the Confederacy. To confuse Union spies watching the port, she was built and launched under the name 'SS Oreto' and was listed as a trading schooner for the Carribean fleet and based in Nassau. It was in Nassau that she was armed and officially transferred to the Confederate fleet and renamed in 1863._

 _The CSS Florida got off to a rather bad start as most of the crew contracted Yellow Fever near Cuba and when she attempted to enter the besieged port of Mobile, Alabama, she was damaged by Union blockaders and laid up in port for several months for repairs which were delayed even longer due to shortages._

 _Once repaired she served the Confederacy very well, taking 58 prizes and causing roughly 4 million dollars worth of damage. She was a fast ship on her own with 9 Knots sail power and maxing out at 14 Knots using sail and her engine. She kept going until 1864 where she was engaged and captured by the '_ _ **USS Wachusett**_ _' which escorted her to the Newport News Shipyard where, in November, 1864, she was rammed and sunk by the Union troop transport '_ _ **Alliance**_ _'._

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Okay everyone, I hope you all enjoyed it. As always, please review.


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